A Feast for Kings
by Strange and Intoxicating -rsa
Summary: A 5.5-course comedy. A deliciously painful meal with King Regis and questions that no one wants to answer. Gladio/Ignis/Prompto/Noctis
1. Course One: Royal Banquet Canapé

A Feast for Kings

 **By** : Strange and Intoxicating -rsa-

 **Author Notes** : I couldn't stop myself, I am so sorry. Please enjoy this, though!

 **Warnings** : Sex, language, threats of violence.

* * *

Course 1: Royal Banquet Canapé

"Prompto, chill out. Really, he's just my dad. He's not that intimidating."

"Dude, he's the king. The _King_! And I'm just a peasant."

"We call you peasants ' _Commoners_ ' now. It keeps the peace."

Prompto understood what Noctis was trying to do, he really did, but nothing short of a miracle was going to make Prompto calm down. It felt like he had swallowed an entire box of razorblades.

"Oh, for godsake, Prom, c'mere."

Noctis pulled him forward by the tie and quickly pulled out the knot and, with steadier hands than his own, retied it into a Half-Windsor at the base of his throat. For good measure he pulled the tie down and Noctis laid a kiss against his Adam's Apple. "For good luck," he said.

"So I need luck?" Oh, boy. this really wasn't going to end well. He could already see his life flashing before his eyes.

"Oh, shut up. You know what I mean." The prince looked up, brushing his hand through his hair, the black wisps cradling his cheek. "Either way, Iggy's gunna be here soon. We're gunna meet Gladio at the Citadel."

The thought of Ignis and Gladio sent a comforting warmth to Prompto's stomach, but in all honesty he couldn't tell if it was really just indigestion from panic of not.

Prompto looked around the apartment that he and the other three men shared-more of house than an apartment. There were four bedroom suites, a massive kitchen, a gym, and even a pool. A freaking _pool_. Of course, four bedrooms was hardly necessary...

Ignis had taken over one to make a small laboratory for his Elemancy projects while another was given to Prompto for his darkroom. Noctis and Gladio had put their heads together to make the last bedroom into a study and video game room. They thought about keeping it a bedroom-just in case anyone went snooping, and technically both Ignis and Gladio still had their own apartments in Insomnia, but in the end decided to just throw a cot in the corner.

And the real bedroom, well.

The bed could sleep four people very, very comfortably.

And that was the room they were in now, with Noctis pulling at his own black tie, running his hands through his hair. Of course, Prompto had seen Noctis in his serious mood, with his black suit and tie, but... This was kinda different.

Prompto pulled at the black tie around his neck and fussed with the cuffs feeling the heavy weight of the Crown-made fabric. Noctis ordered it special for him, said that it was enhanced to ward off simple attacks and magic.

Now, thinking back on it... Noctis probably knew that Prompto would have to one day meet his father, and totally expected things to blow up completely.

Maybe the king would even try to stab him...

"You're doing it again," Noctis warned, and Prompto had to scratch at his head, guilty.

"Doing what, heheh."

"That. The getting nervous thing. Chill out and remember that my dad just wants to meet you. It's really nothing special. I mean, he even wants Iggy and Gladio to come along, so it can't be that important. I think... he just wants to make sure that I have friends."

Prompto swallowed sharply. "Do you think he knows about... about _us_?"

Noctis snorted. "Prom, my dad has an army of Kingsglaive that have been trained in subterfuge, magic, and weaponry for years. You think you would be breathing if he knew you, Iggy and Gladio pinned me down and fucked my brains out until I blacked out last night?" Noctis snorted. "I would have woken up with your heads on pikes."

Prompto knew that Noctis was joking, he really did, but that didn't help his stomach.

"Oh, c'mon, let's go. You look fine, my father doesn't know I'm fucking you, and he is probably just doing this to be nice."

Well... if this was what the King thought was _nice_... well...

The blond nodded his head and pulled at his sleeve one last time before following Noctis out toward the front door, making sure that his shoelaces were appropriately tied and that he looked as presentable as possible.

"Stop preening," Noctis joked as he ran a hand over Prompto's hair. "You look good in black... you should wear it more often."

Prompto smiled.

* * *

It didn't matter how many times Ignis and Noctis told him that really, this was nothing to be concerned about, that the king was still a man and that this entire thing was just an informal get-together between son and father, Prompto still felt nervous. Even with Ignis's hand on his in the front seat, Noctis curled up in the back of the car, lost in thought, it didn't cure his worry.

Gladio waiting in the front of the Citadel, hair pulled back in a professional ponytail at the nape of his neck with the tie around his throat covering up some of Prompto's over-enthusiasm, didn't even make the blond smile. Frankly, the feeling of impending doom was getting worse.

"Hey, kid, you look sharp."

Prompto tried to smile, but he was sure it looked more like a pained grimace.

"Ignore him, he's been panicking all damn day." Noctis climbed out of the side of the car and elbowed the door closed behind him. "I swear, you would think he was meeting the-"

" _King_?" Prompto supplied.

Noctis rolled his eyes. "I was gunna say the executioner."

"Which is your _father_. You know. The _King_."

Noctis shrugged.

"Prompto is nervous, Noct. Be a little more considerate to his feelings; he did not grow up with invitations to galas like we have." Ignis reached out and pressed his hands against Prompto's shoulders for the briefest of moments. "Do not fuss with your cuffs, it makes you look more nervous."

Prompto hadn't even realized he was doing it and stopped immediately, resisting the urge to scratch the back of his head. He imagined that would be just as bad as playing with his buttons.

"Sorry to break up the love fest for the chocobo, but the King said six on the dot, and it's kind of my job to be on time. So, if you would," Gladio made a sweeping gesture with his arms, giving a mock half bow to his lovers, "let's get this party moved on inside."

Gladio put his hand against the soft slope of his back that at any other time would have had Prompto melting into a puddle of goo, but right now just made him stand more stock-straight, hoping that King Regis couldn't smell fear. He knew that Noctis had the eerie capability, like a damn shark out of water. The last thing he needed was to give it away.

If the building was imposing, that had nothing on the creak of the massive doors as they opened for the group.

"We'll probably be in his quarters on the 15th floor," Noctis said as he looked around, making a gesture to the back of the large, open chamber.

Prompto found it hard to breathe as he looked over the beauty of the foyer, the chandelier glittering in the center of the room, the lush red rug under his feet, the marble diamond pattern delicately wrought against the walls and reaching into the heavens. It was so beautiful, and Noctis... this was Noctis's home.

This was Gladio and Ignis's home, too...

And now Prompto was more nervous, because, well, how was he supposed to fit into _this_?

"Don't look like that, Prom." It was Noctis. The man reached out his hand to Prompto's shoulder, pressing his thumb down in soothing circles. His hands felt warm and firm, so very Noct. "It's just me and the guys. You got this, okay?"

It felt good to have Noctis pause in that moment, but still...

Sweet shit on a stick.

Prompto knew that Noctis was the prince, saw the Kingsglaive and the advisors and the money-having lived with Noctis since they graduated high school, he was a little bit accustomed to it. But this was still a goddamn _castle_.

"Y-yeah. Got this. We're good, we're good." He bit back an uncomfortably high laugh, and wished they were back home curled under the blankets.

"If nothing else the food should be good. And Iggy can just rest and get to enjoy it himself."

"I enjoy cooking, but nothing I cook can compare with the Royal chefs. Their palette is that of dreams."

"Oh-hey, guys, it's Gwendaline. She looks... panicked."

Prompto looked up towards Gladio, who had his chin pointed out toward a woman in a long dress, hair pulled back in a stern silver bun at the top of her head, as she rushed toward the group.

"Oh, Prince Noctis, esteemed guests. Our Majesty has requested dinner be served in the Banquet hall. Please, please hurry."

Prompto realized the look that went between Ignis, Noctis, and Gladio, and audibly gulped.

"Um, does this change things?"

Noctis's nose twitched. "Nah, Prom. It's good. It's all good."

Gladio and Ignis said nothing.

Shit.

* * *

The chair at his back was hard, like a stone instead of a velvet cushion. Prompto was pretty damn sure it was supposed to be that way, too.

The King sat at the top of the table, a fair 10 feet between him and Noctis, who was at the other end. It was a lot of space, and Prompto wondered if this was how they ate their dinner every day, so far away from one another that conversation no doubt had to be half-shouted.

Ignis and Gladio were on the other side of the table, a fair distance away from one another, and now Prompto was really beginning to panic, because why were there so many spoons and forks and what was that thing- a _clamp_?

He was way over his head, and the King seemed to be more than well aware of how Prompto was feeling.

From the little frown pulled against his lips, he seemed very much aware.

"So, you must be the esteemed Prompto. My son has spoken of you fondly."

"Um, ye-yes, Your Majesty. Noctis has said a lot about you... Um, Your Majesty."

King Regis blinked at him, and then looked to Noctis. "I see. I hope good things?"

Prompto spluttered. "Yes! Yes, of course, Your Majesty. Very good things!"

"Then you're lying."

Prompto gulped and Noctis made some kind of noise, once that Prompto had never heard before. Prompto looked up to Ignis and Gladio, both of which were way too interested in staring at their glasses.

Traitors.

"No, no! Not lying! He told me about your-uh, Your Majesty's... lessons?" He threw a glance to Noctis, whose mouth was puckered so tightly it looked like he was about a second away from having a brain aneurysm. "Yeah! The magic lessons..."

Prompto only hoped that the King did not ask him to repeat exactly what Noctis would say after those lessons. Usually it was a string of words that would have made Prompto blush had he not become well-accustomed to it.

"I... I see."

Thankfully, the King moved his line of sight, and questioning, to Noctis.

"And your classes?"

"They're fine, dad. Prom and I are talking Advanced Lucian history together. You should probably let the historians access to the Citadel Library. They're teaching so much shit it's hard to keep track of."

"Language, Noctis." But this sent another round of questions toward Prompto. "So, Prompto. My son says you study...?"

"Um. Mechanical Engineering... Your Majesty."

Ignis spoke up, thankfully saving Prompto from melting into the floor. "Your Majesty, Prompto is quite the accomplished engineer, the best in his class according to his instructors. He has even gained the prestigious Sophiar Award-"

"Good old Hammerproof Thickskull...The man was one of my companions during the Old War. Quick with a hammer, not much brain up his head." King Regis let his eyes dart from Prompto back to Noctis, then back to Prompto. "Do _you_ have a brain in yours?"

Prompto gulped. "Yes sir! I mean, um, yes Your Majesty. I have a brain in my head."

"Gladiolus tells me that you and Noctis enjoy drinking, is that true?"

Oh, god. It was once, and it wasn't like they weren't with Ignis and Gladio, and it was just supposed to be a bit of fun.

"Do you enjoy alcohol, Prompto?"

"Um, not really, sir. Um. Your Majesty."

"Dad, he's sweating bullets, leave him alone before he passes out on the table."

"Ignis, does he enjoy alcohol?"

Prompto looked up to Ignis, who seemed to have found God in his wine glass. That must have been his third-no, fourth, glass. "No, Your Majesty. I do not believe so. No more than myself."

"Ignis, your glass is empty. Would you care for more wine-yes, thank you. And yes, Gladiolus. Dear boy. How is your sister?"

Prompto resisted the urge to reach up and yank at his tie.

"She's fine, Your Majesty. Looking forward to the upcoming New Years festival at the Citadel. I think she's trying to outdo herself with the dress-thing weighs half what she does."

"Oh, good. She is such a sweet girl, very beautiful. Don't you agree, Noctis?"

"Uh. Yeah. Iris is cool."

"I was thinking that perhaps you should accompany Iris to the New Years festival. Iris is now... seventeen? It is a sound age to begin looking into courtship."

Someone knocked something over-ah, Gladio's water glass was on the ground. Oops.

Was it getting hot in the room or was it just Prompto?

"Gladiolus, are you well?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. I'm sorry to interrupt, but Iris is a little... young to be dating. She hasn't even graduated from High School yet." Prompto spared a look at Gladio, who was somehow managing to hide his panic. Yet, from the water glass one of the harried waiters quickly picked up, there was a chink in his armor.

Of course everyone at the table knew that one day in the distant, distant future there would be some requirements about legacy and heirs. But not right now, and _definitely_ not with Iris.

"Oh, Clarius and I have spoken about it, though of course Noctis is not required to go forward with it. Ignis, does Noctis have any other fair young woman interested in him?"

Ignis looked like he wanted to climb into that wine glass, now.

"No, Your Majesty. Noctis is quite busy with his studies-"

"How about you ask me about my love life, dad? Stop torturing everyone here." Prompto was just happy that this game of verbal tennis seemed to be leaving him out of it.

Prompto reached over and picked up his glass of water and took a sip-

"Fine then. Prompto, are you sleeping with my son?"

Prompto couldn't help but spit out his water, watching in slow motion as it rushed out of his mouth and nose, spraying across the table in an elegant arc.

"Or is it you, Gladiolus?"

Gladio dropped another glass.

"Ignis? Perhaps you are the one who is spending his nights with the Crown Prince?"

Ignis picked up his white wine glass and tipped the entirety of his new glass down his throat, then grabbed for his glass of red wine.

"Noctis?"

Noctis had his face planted between his hands.

Prompto couldn't look up at the King, but he did hear the king snap his fingers. The dirty plate where he had spit his water was replaced with a plate of colorful pastries, the bright orange of fish and the blackness of the caviar leaving spots in Prompto's vision.

Or maybe it was the lack of oxygen.

When Prompto looked up at the King, he watched him pick up a bread between his fingers, inspect it from side to side, before pushing it into his mouth in its entirety.

After a moment of chewing, the King looked at Prompto. "Well?"

Prompto stared down at his plate.

"Are you not hungry, Prompto?"

He was fucked.

* * *

 **Please Review!**


	2. Course Two: Golden Tail Soup

**Course Two: Golden Tail Soup**

Ignis was not drunk.

As a man of refined taste, he was quite accustomed to drinking his fair amount of wine. It was a requirement to keep a cool head when each dish came with new, exotic and aged drink, which was to be relished over the dominance of flavors. It was not all that unusual for Ignis to partake in several glasses of wine per night, always meticulously paired with the freshest of ingredients.

He did not get drunk off of wine. It was for tasting the beauty in each pairing, complementing the delicate acidity and the tannin. It was for figuring out the perfect mix of flavor and sharpness.

It was not for getting drunk.

Ignis knocked back his entire glass of white Tenebraen wine, feeling the soft notes of grapes against his tongue. He put the glass back on the table and looked to the kitchen staff, then back to his wine glass.

His glasses were getting a little blurry. No doubt due to the massive headache building up behind his eyelids.

King Regis was being…

Ignis reached back down to his now full wine glass and took another deep drink. This was exquisite wine, truly.

Ignis looked to Gladio, who was sitting stock-straight in his seat, and he had to fight down the urge to laugh at his lover. Gladio wasn't aware that when he was worried, his eyebrow twitched. Ignis thought it was… cute.

"Ignis, what seems to be so funny? Please, do regale us with what has you so tickled."

Ignis looked to the King and shook his head. "Nothing, your Majesty. I assure you, I have not been untoward."

Ignis looked to Noctis and remembered just the night before, Noctis's hands pinning him down as the Crown Prince sat himself down on Ignis's hard cock. He could see how his face would flush pink, the soft and sparse black hairs decorating his chest shuddering as Noctis pushed himself up and rode him. Those sweet delicious moans shook Ignis to his core, and…

No.

He was not getting hard at the dinner table.

Ignis took another sip of wine.

"Untoward. So, you are saying you are favored by my son?"

Ignis looked over to Noctis, who was trying to shrink into his chair. Poor dear, considering how his ass must have felt. Their positions… it was surprising that Noctis could walk, but he was still able to. Perhaps next time Ignis would give into Noctis's requests to be a little more rough, just the way Noctis liked it. It wasn't fair that he was all but invisible to the King at this moment. Maybe if he were squirming just a bit more...

"I am Noctis's trusted advisor."

Regis sent Ignis a pointed glance. "An advisor should not be spending his nights at his Prince's home."

"On the contrary, it is a beneficial relationship-"

"So you admit it?"

Ignis headache was almost visible in the corners of his eyes. "No, your Majesty, that was not what I said…"

"Except you referred to your position as a relationship. Your words, am I correct? Considering the nanny once found you and Noctis in a rather precarious position as young children, your inclinations have been more than well known." The King rested his thumb against his lip and bit down on the nail, flicking it against his top two teeth. "Though I thought as you grew up you would end up with Gladiolus. It would not be the first time a member of the Crownsguard went after an Amicitia… Gladiolus? That is your third glass."

Ignis looked up to see Gladio holding the shards of another glass, though his face was oddly devoid of emotion. Except for the eyebrow.

Another sip. Really, the wine was quite delicious.

"Do be careful, I am quite fond of those glasses. 900 year old blown glass from the Lucretia Caelum dynasty. You'd be surprised how difficult it is to find."

"I am sorry your Majesty."

The King snapped his fingers again and the full plates of Canapé in front of Ignis were removed, replaced with light golden soup that seemed to glitter in the light.

The King lifted up his golden spoon and dipped it in the soup, lifting it to his lips. He looked at each of the men at the table. "Did you not enjoy the canapé? Was it not to your liking?" His eyes narrowed. "I am sure you have broken Lady Quina's heart. No doubt she will have words at the end of the meal."

As if he were a marionette, Regis knew how to pull the strings with such mastery that it took a minute for Ignis to realize that he, as well as Noctis, were now joining Gladio in his upright, straight-backed posture.

"You wouldn't dare-" Noctis began, but Regis only tapped his spoon against the dish. Once. Only once.

"Lady Quina, diligently working over her kitchen to prepare the perfect meal for her little Crown Prince," Regis deadpanned. "You think I would dare to stop her?"

"Prompto, please sit up and eat anything set before you." Ignis could feel the cold chill of something… something terrifying and not wholly human in the room now, and he wondered if it was Lady Quina. Only once had Noctis invoked the wrath of Lady Quina.

Only once.

"Prom, just do it."

Noctis's face looked an unhealthy shade of puce as he lifted his shaking hand to the spoon and quickly shoveled the liquid inside, Gladio and Ignis following suit.

"Huh?" Prompto stared at Noctis, then to Gladio before his eyes finally rested on Ignis. "Who?"

Another tink of the spoon against the bowl and Ignis picked up a bread roll and threw it onto Prompto's plate.

"Eat. Now."

Prompto seemed to catch on that not eating was more terrifying than not, and quickly set to work on blindly grabbing the wrong spoon to eat his soup.

"That is your dessert spoon, Prompto. And I thought you said that you had a brain?"

Prompto dropped the spoon into the soup and grabbed for another.

"That is a teaspoon."

Ignis grabbed his glass, drinking down the last of his wine. He looked back to the kitchen staff and nodded, trying to avoid looking at Prompto. He should have given the man a basic course on dining etiquette, though Ignis had foolishly expected this to be a simple, pleasant event.

"Noctis, when did you begin to sleep with your advisor?"

Noctis stopped only long enough to glare balefully at the King. "None of your damn business." He scooped another mouthful of soup into his mouth and growled.

Regis smiled, mouth sharp and full of teeth. He looked over to Ignis, his lips pulled into a mockery of an inquisitive smile. "I thought you said you weren't sleeping with my son, Ignis?" He tsked.

Tsked.

Ignis grabbed his now full wine glass and drank down until there was nothing left.

Ignis wasn't drunk yet, but he damn well would be soon.

* * *

 **Please review!**


	3. Course Three: Fettini di Cernia

**Course Three: Fettini di Cernia**

"Gladiolus. When did you first defile my son?"

Gladio breathed in through his nose, tight and controlled. This was a test. This had to be a test.

"Your Majesty, I haven't." Well, not today, at least. Not since last night.

But Gladio did not say that, because the King of Lucis staring him down the bridge of his nose (a nose that looked so much like Noctis's that it made it just a little harder to look at the man) made him incredibly nervous. Like, in a way that made it hard for him to prevent his hands from shaking.

As a little boy, Gladio had been taught never to show fear to an enemy-it was the easiest way for the Prince to get hurt. If he allowed himself to give into that fear, to allow himself to be lost in his emotions, then it could one day cost more than just a little embarrassment. It could have cost Noct his life.

And King Regis, well... King Regis was a shark in the water. He could no doubt smell the blood rushing through his ears. It must have been something in the family, something in their magic, to be able to make those of the Amicitia family so goddamn weak. He knew for a fact that he wasn't the first Amicitia to break his vows as a Shield-or, rather, slightly bend his vows. Of course he would protect Noctis with his life. He would never dare to think otherwise.

Just... he was pretty sure there was nothing in his vows about banging Noctis so hard he went to bed like a good little boy.

No, Gladio was positive there wasn't anything in his vows about fucking Noctis.

He checked.

Twice.

"Clarus and I have spoken. Perhaps you should be removed from your post as Shield, as you are unable to keep your hands off of Noctis."

Gladio stared with slack-jaw horror at the King.

He wouldn't.

He wouldn't dare.

This absolutely had to be a test of his resolve.

"Your Majesty, please. I am nothing but Noctis's bodyguard-" It was a lie. He fucking worshipped the ground Noctis walked on, and had ever since he was a kid and realized that Noctis wasn't as big of a useless dipshit as he thought. It took time, but Gladio would have died a thousand times over for Noctis. Bodyguard was just one name for what Gladio was to the Crown Prince. "Just as my father is to you."

Regis blinked at him.

"Gladiolus, you do not want to compare the relationship I have with your father to the relationship you have with my son."

Oh.

Oh, oh sweet Shiva's tits. He was joking, right?

Test. Test. Test-test-test. Test.

Gladio looked to Noctis, who was busy smashing his spoon into the dregs of his soup. He was going to be no help. Ignis really had to stop drinking soon- that had to have been his sixth or seventh glass. And Prompto... poor fucking Prom was ripping holes into the bread roll Ignis had thrown at him. Was there a pitcher of water he could drown himself in?

Regis clicked his fingers and the staff bounded forward, one of the ladies outright grabbing the empty spoon from Noctis's fingers.

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Your Majesty."

But Gladio had some kind of vague idea, and that vague idea he didn't want to have anywhere near his mind.

No, no. Nope.

Uh-uh.

In his bowl's place was a plate of sumptuous slices of thin, barely cooked fish. His stomach almost gave out on him, which was saying something. He had been able to survive Prompto and Noctis's cooking with that steel stomach and resolve.

Gladio grabbed the crystal glass and took a drink, making sure to carefully place it back on the table. 900 year old Lucian glass.

Gladio wished he could have been as blissfully drunk as Ignis was. The man was staring out over the table with his nose resting on the side of his glass.

"Then you will have no issue with one of the other Glaive taking over your duties-"

"Dad, knock it off. Gladio is my Shield, not yours-"

"Then would you care to tell me when you began having sex with your Shield?"

"I don't know- why don't you tell us when you started fucking yours-"

"Noct!"

"Highness!"

"Say what."

This was not a test.

This was not a fucking drill.

"That is absolutely none of your business-"

"The hell it is when you're digging your nose into my fucking business!"

Gladio tried, he really tried, but…

"Who is fucking my father?!"

Regis glared balefully down the table to Noctis, who at some point stood up from the table, finger pointed right at Regis. "He is-I walked in on it-"

"Then you should have learned in your etiquette lessons to knock-"

"Five times!"

Gladio let his face go slack and straightened his back. He allowed his years of training to take over as he fought down the urge to yell, scream, or act unruly in any form. His father had taught him better.

His father. Who was fucking the King of Lucis.

At least five times.

"Perhaps you should have learned after the first four times, Noctis."

Gladio looked over to Ignis, whose eyes were bulbous and large, the glass of wine still gripped in his hand.

"Iggy," Gladio began, "I think you're done with the alcohol-"

"AND YOU ARE A HYPOCRITICAL ASSHOLE FOR TELLING ME NOT TO FUCK WHO I WANT TO."

"Noct-don't yell at your dad…" Prompto gulped when both King and Prince from each end stared at him for just a moment before once again launching their words at one another.

And Ignis still had his wine.

Gladio briefly stood from his seat and snatched the wine right out of Ignis's hand and drank it all down, not even realizing until he smashed his fist against the table that the damn thing was already broken.

"Will you stop breaking my son's inheritance, Gladiolus? You've already gone through six years of your pay. Someone give him a goblet, for godsake." How was he so calm?

How?

 _How?_

This seriously had to be a test.

* * *

Please review!


	4. Course Four: Lasagna Al Forno

**Course Four: Lasagna Al Forno**

"I called this dinner for another reason. I wanted to inform you of something."

The dinner had been terse, glacial like Shiva's frozen tit already, so Noctis wasn't sure what else his father could do. The constant jabs to his retinue, the cool questions, the way Prompto seemed about ten seconds from just dying, the amount of wine Ignis had already consumed, or how Gladio's ticking eyebrow has suddenly become the entirety of half of his face.

This night really wasn't going to get worse. It was, logistically, impossible.

The plates of steaming Lasagna Al Forno. It did look good; maybe not as good as Iggy's, because Iggy never put in the vegetables…. But it still looked nice.

Even though Noctis knew he wasn't going to get to eat it. There was no way it was going to happen, because he knew that tone of voice. That was the voice that his father used for bad news. That was the voice his father used when shit was going to hit the fan.

All Noctis wanted to do was crawl back into his bed, to hide under the covers. No… he wanted to be curled up next to his lovers, cradled between their bodies. He wanted there to be nothing but them, nothing but the sweet embrace of their heat and sleep.

He did not want to hear what his father was going to say, because he already knew it wasn't going to be something he wanted to hear.

"Noctis… you continue to say that you are not in a relationship with these men, so it is time for me to inform you that we received word from Altissia. They have agreed that a marriage should take place to cement our relationship. While Altissia is a democracy, they do have the original monarchy…"

"No. You can't mean her. No."

Regis's eyes flashed. "That's no way to treat your future queen. Helga is a spirited young woman—"

"She's forty!"

"Still able to bear children, I have been assured. But we should get you married soon, before that changes."

"No."

"Yes, Noctis. I invited you and your friends here to clear the air. Now that I know that you have no inclinations toward them, I feel confident in my decision."

 **Bang**.

Noctis could feel the magic in the air. It was an undercurrent of electrical charge that was making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge. He could smell the ozone, like a morning after the rain where everything seemed to be so peaceful and perfect. He could even see it glistening in the corner of his sight, a pink layer that made everything glow like one of the opals in his mother's favorite necklace.

He was pretty sure wherever she was now, she was staring down at him with slack-jawed horror.

This really wasn't how he planned the night to go.

It was just supposed to be dinner. Just dinner.

Noctis snapped his fingers together, reaching into the ether to call forward the sword his father had gifted to him on his 16th birthday…

Only to find that in its place was…

"What did you do to my sword?" Noctis screamed as he looked up at his father, who was smiling with a full mouth of razor-sharp, gleaming teeth against the pink insides of his mouth. "The fuck is this?"

"Language!"

"Fuck you and your language-"

 _ **Squeak**_.

Noctis tightened his hand around the toy sword before throwing it to the side in anger. The fuck.

He could see that Gladio had gotten Ignis out from where he had managed to hide behind a piece of 3rd century woodwork that had once been part of the dinner table.

Now it was shattered into many toothpick-sized splinters.

 _Oops_.

"You don't control my life!" Noctis shook his hand, trying to pull at his magic. "And screw you for trying to tell me who I can and can't fuck!"

Regis looked like a vein was going to burst on his forehead, and for a moment Noctis could feel only vindictive pleasure in it. It would serve him right. What the hell was this? What was going on?

Prompto was pressed up against the opposite wall and Noctis could see some of the Lasagna Al Forno still sticking in his Chocobo blond hair. In fact, from the roof to the walls to the Glaives staring shell-shocked at them…. Everything was covered in Lasagna Al Forno. Well…. Except for the king, who had managed to throw up his shield to protect from the flying dishes.

This wasn't Noctis's fault.

"Noctis, sit down before you cause any more damage to this room. We want there to still be a banquet hall for when you get married."

But it wasn't Noctis's fault, was it?

"I am not getting married to that she-beast. Absolutely not!" There was a tinge of hysterical fervor in his words, causing his voice to crack. Oh, Six. What would the Astrals think of a prince throwing a fit and accidentally letting off a little too much of his magic? And then, what would the Astrals think of his now feral panic?

He needed to get Prompto, Ignis, and Gladio out. They needed to get out of the room before his father did something in retaliation.

Screw Lucian glassware; it was a 3rd century hand-carved wooden table from the Rogue Star Queen's dynasty.

He had blown up something worth literally more than his life. There had been more than one king in their line that had died specifically for that table, or so the tales has been told to him. There was a special magic in its wood, and now… well, now it was a heap of very broken, slightly charred, wood.

 _Oops_.

"Noctis, you need to calm yourself now, before you do any more damage."

Any more damage?

"I blew up The Rogue Star Queen's 3rd Century wooden table."

Prompto, still clinging to to the wall, whimpered. "Oh, we're all so dead. So, so, so dead." A zucchini slid down the wall behind him, plopping onto his shoulder. Prompto didn't even seem to notice.

Noctis turned to Gladio, whose hair had come loose. Ignis was bent over a bottle of wine, maybe the only thing from the dinner that had managed to be salvaged.

"We can see that," Gladio muttered, but Noctis quickly turned to Ignis, who was giggling as he tried to pull off the cork with his teeth.

"Noctis, control your temper! I have told you time and time again that you do not get to use the magic of the Lucii to break things!"

"It isn't like I can control it," Noctis snarled and snapped his fingers again. He couldn't warp out of the window without access to his sword. "It just happens!"

"You're going to need to learn how if you're going to become king," Regis's voice boomed, and Noctis had to wince at the strength of the man's voice. It wasn't often that Noctis could see that this man, his father, had been king for a long time. He was a strong man, even with his cane.

"Well, I want a rain check. Clearly I'm not made to be king material."

"It doesn't work like that, Noct," Ignis piped up as he finally managed to pull off the cork. Decorum was very much gone; Ignis wasn't even pretending to be the curt yet polite man he typically was. Instead, Ignis pushed himself to his feet and then took a long swig of the bottle of wine he had managed to save. "You get kingly no matter. Traditions and much thinking of kingly things. Yes, certainly."

Noctis turned to Ignis, cocking his head to the side.

"What the fuck."

"Yes, fucking indeed. We should get to it."

"I swear, the both of you! Language!"

But the advisor was far too gone; Ignis looked down to his bottle, turning to Gladio and leaned forward to grab a clump of lasagna from the Shield's face. "No wasting food." He shoved it into Gladio's mouth.

Even Regis seemed to have nothing to add, and Noctis was very, very sure that one of the Glaive was hiding his laughter behind a very long cough.

"I think…" Prompto started…. "Maybe we should… Noct… Maybe you should just…"

"Should what, Mr. Argentum? As I said before, is there anything you would like to tell me?"

"We've got nothing to tell you!"

"Then I should call Helga's father and let them know the wedding will take place soon."

Gladio twitched. Prompto banged his head against the wall, knocking more lasagna down. Ignis took another swig of the bottle. None of the Glaive so much as said a word.

They didn't breathe.

"Fine! I'm in a relationship," Noctis finally snapped. "Is that what you want to hear? Are you really that obsessed with my life that you need to know that?"

Regis pinched the bridge of his nose. "Which one?"

Noctis scrunched his face. "All of them."

Regis's mouth fell open, all kingly decorum gone.

Ignis choked and spit out his wine, the liquid dribbling down his chin.

Gladio's face froze, eyes wide and cheeks sucked in.

Prompto let out a pained moan and flopped onto the floor, prostrating himself down in the deepest bow Noctis had ever seen.

And Noctis snapped his fingers again, the ether opening up for his weapon….

Only to find that instead of his blade, the arsenal had decided to spit out the fucking toy sword yet again.

 _ **Squeak**_.

* * *

 **Please review!**


	5. Course Five: Bavarois

**Course Five: Bavarois**

Regis had known from the very beginning that there was something going on involving his son and his retinue; it was as clear as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west. The four bedroom apartment with only one bed, the lack of interest in the opposite sex, the little hints of hands and gentle ribbing—Regis was many things, but blind was certainly not one of them. He remembered his own infatuation with Aulea as a young man, how he had fawned over her and worshipped the ground she walked upon. And, later, Regis would learn the equally important promise of gentle touch from his own Shield.

He knew that there was something going on with Noctis and his retinue, but it didn't mean the shock hadn't gone to his heart.

Clarus had put his money down on the young Prompto—he remembered the big change in Noctis and his friends after Noctis met the blond boy when they were still students. Cor had slapped a stack of hundreds down on Ignis, because the devotion that Ignis showed was beyond even what even a Shield did for their Kings. There was a pool from the Kingsglaive and the Crownsguard on which one was dating the prince—Crownsguard wanted one of their own, so Gladio was in the lead. The Kingsglaive had split between Prompto and Ignis for the most part, though there was one man who had thrown down an entire paycheck on it being all three of them.

Regis looked to his lasagna-covered Glaives and closed his mouth, attempting to protect the last shred of dignity he had.

At least he wasn't covered in lasagna.

He did not break his glance with Noctis as he slowly sunk into his dinner chair, thankful that his magical shield had managed to catch the flying splinters as well as the vestiges of what had once been their meal. He didn't break his gaze from Noctis, whose entire face had gone ghostly white at his own honesty, until Regis was seated.

"Ulric, you can pick up your winnings when you return from dropping my son and his…" Regis glanced to the broken remnants of what was left of Ignis, Prompto, and Gladio, " _ **boyfriends**_ at their apartment."

Noctis blinked.

"That is all, Noctis." Regis folded his hands in his lap and attempted to keep his face composed. "I hope that our next meal will be less… explosive."

"Wh—what?!"

Regis was shocked that it wasn't in fact Noctis who screamed this, but instead the young Prompto. The man was still spread across the floor, a bow too deep for Regis to find comfortable.

"Yes, Mr. Argentum?"

"Bu—but wha—"

Regis raised an eyebrow. This would do no good, no good at all. "Ignis, when you have sobered, I recommend teaching young Prompto the importance of decorum… and completing his sentences." He did not mention the spoons, though he was sure that Ignis would not be forgetting about them any time soon. "There's no reason for him to lack basic manners, even as a peasant."

"Commoner," Noctis groaned.

Regis looked to Noctis, who had dropped his toy sword to the ground. It was certainly a good decision for Regis to lock the Arsenal. "Ah, yes. We call them commoners now, don't we?" He smiled, knowing that his mouth was pulled a little tighter than it needed to be. "It helps quell uprisings…"

"Were you _seriously_ betting on who I was fu—"

Putting out a hand, Regis hoped that it would be enough to stop Noctis from continuing. Thankfully, it seemed to do the trick.

"It seems most of us lost, as well." And it was quite a large sum of money, at that. Alas, Regis could not admit to that, particularly at the coloring of his son's face. Perhaps getting involved with his son's romantic entanglements (or what seemed to be lack thereof) had been the cause of his own downfall. Had he not found out about the bet, then perhaps the dinner never would have taken place and Regis could have stayed blissfully unaware.

Too late for that now, and never would Regis be the same.

Regis looked away from Noctis and toward Gladiolus, who was attempting his best to pull Ignis back into sorts. It was utterly peculiar to see the proper and prim advisor, the boy he had hand-picked for Noctis to trust implicitly, with his hair and suit a mess. The wine had managed to trickle down from his lips, staining his collar and he had yet to let go of the neck of the bottle.

He motioned to the Glaive again. "It would be best if one of you drove my son and his retinue back to their apartment. Clearly they are in no shape to drive." It was clear that none of them were in any shape to even be _moving_ , if Regis were honest with himself. However, that was not necessarily Regis's concern; he was already near having a heart attack. While it was certainly his job to care for and love his son, right now… it was best if his son was home and his _boyfriends_ were very much far away, lest heads roll.

Regis looked down at the toy sword that he had locked the Arsenal with; he would no doubt have to explain that nifty little trick for a day in the future…

"Dad?"

Regis looked up at his son, at his panicked face, at the lasagna staining his black shirt and tangled in his hair. Gods, he looked like his mother.

"Yes, Noctis?" It was hard to keep his composure, particularly at the heavy, labored breaths from Gladiolus and the groans from Prompto. Ignis seemed borderline unconscious.

"Uh… Do I have to marry Helga?"

Regis blinked at his son. Oh, yes. Helga. "It seems you are rather preoccupied at the moment," Regis admitted. Preoccupied… that did not even begin to cover the predicament his son had himself in—

Regis shook his head violently. Those thoughts were absolutely and completely unwelcome.

"So… uh… no wedding?"

"For now." It was certainly a good thing that he had never once shown Lord Byrn nor his daughter any interest in the proposition for tying their families together. Of course, there was no reason for Noctis to know that.

Regis's head hurt, and he finally closed his eyes, focusing on breathing and the slight tinge at his hand. It was enough to pull him from his thoughts, to compose himself.

"Well, it seems that our dinner… may need to be rescheduled."

Someone whimpered.

"Can we… like… not?"

Regis allowed his heavy lids to inspect the banquet room. "Perhaps… lunch in the gardens would be better."

He took his time standing from his chair, then pulling his cane from the Arsenal. Regis was just as careful to avoid burning pieces of the Rogue Star Queen's 3rd Century wooden table and the lasagna smeared across the floor. Making his way forward, he finally reached Noctis and with one hand awkwardly pat his son on the shoulder.

He looked down at Gladiolus, who was barely holding Ignis by the back of his shirt. "You have some lasagna, right there," Regis reached up to his own beard, and Gladiolus mimicked him, dropping Ignis to the ground with a thunk. "No, no. The other side."

Gladiolus continued to rub at his beard as Regis continued past Prompto, gently prodding him with the end of his cane. "I hope we can properly eat a meal next time, Mr. Argentum."

The blond lifted one of his hands briefly, but it slapped back onto the ground. The zucchini on his shoulder plopped gracelessly onto the onyx and gold marbled floor.

Regis continued forward. There was a young kitchen staff girl at the very end of the banquet room, her hands full of a silver tray. Regis smiled to her, watching her trembling lip pull back. "That would be my dessert?"

"Ye—yes, Your Majesty," she replied.

Regis quirked his lips. "Have my Shield deliver it to my quarters."

With that he motioned to the shell-shocked Crownsguard and Kingsglaive at the doors, and marched out with all the dignity that a King held.

Later that night, when he had properly eaten a real supper (for not even the Gods would dare to upset Lady Quina) Regis allowed Clarus to take him and the Bavarois to bed. It was nice to allow his Shield to feed him the sweet raspberry jelly, and he certainly needed the comfort.

"The table was an unfortunate loss. It will be missed."

"Truly, Regis? Did you have to do that to them?"

Regis hummed as he accepted a mouthful of sweet, soft dessert. "I believe so, yes."

Clarus pulled away the spoon, eyes narrowed. "Was this the dessert prepared for dinner today?"

Regis smiled.

"Your son hates mushy food."

Regis only smiled wider.

There was a knock at the door, and Clarus was quick to pull himself from the bed though Regis was pleased to note that he did not rush to put on his jacket as he would have a few years prior. He handed the plate to Regis, who accepted it gracefully.

"Noctis is the only person who barges in without invitation," Regis reminded, only getting a tart glance from the other man.

"Who is it?" Clarus called, and Regis pointed looked down at the pink, spongy dessert. It jiggled when he pushed his spoon down.

"Ulric, sir."

"Let him in, Clarus."

The Kingsglaive looked a little worse for wear—his uniform was dirtied, traces of tomato sauce and soot clinging to the tips of his hair. Cheese had long-ago melded into his collar, but none of that seemed to bother the man. "Got Prince Noctis and the others back to his apartment."

"Were there any issues?"

Ulric tried not to smile, pulling his arms straight behind him. "We had to peel Argentum from the floor. Scientia will probably have a nasty hangover in the morning. Gladio may have dented the car door, but other than that… they'll survive."

"I'll send them something to help in the morning," Regis told the Kingsglaive. "Dismissed, Ulric."

"Yes, Your Majesty." The man did not move.

"Ah. Yes. One moment." Regis rested his spoon on the plate and put the dish on the bedside table. He clicked his fingers together, though solely for the benefit of the two others in the room, as he pulled a rather large black velvet pouch from the ether. "This would be for you. Enjoy your prize, you have certainly earned it."

The man only hesitated for a moment before accepting the pouch. He opened it, and for a moment Regis thought the man would attempt to count his winnings right there in his private quarters, but instead he pulled out a large bundle of cash.

The Kingsglaive reached out his hand toward Regis. "You won too, you know?"

Regis winced at the incredulous look Clarus shot him. "I… I think it would be better if you enjoyed the winnings on your own. I do not have any need for my own coin."

Ulric shrugged. "If you're sure, Your Majesty."

"Quite."

* * *

 **Please review!**


	6. Course Six: Taelpar Harvest Galette

**Course Six: Taelpar Harvest Galette**

Noctis woke with the worst headache he had ever had in his entire life, with three bodies smothering him. He would have been happy to stay in bed if not for the incessant banging on the door.

"Oooow," he groaned as he pushed his hand against something warm and squishy— Prompto's face.

"'z my fasch—" Prompto said and swatted at Noctis's hand. "Lemme 'lone. Lemme die."

Noctis could barely hear him over the sound of his heartbeat pounding through both ears. He whined out something, a sound or prayer or maybe just a curse, as he rolled over Prompto and landed next to Ignis.

Ignis didn't look much better than Noctis was feeling. There was a trashcan next to his side of the bed, though mercifully empty. After the Six knew how many glasses of wine he had managed to down the night before, it was a wonder that he wasn't dead with alcohol poisoning. Still, Noctis knew that Ignis was still feeling the night's events in probably a spectacularly awful fashion. The greenish gray pallor to his Chamberlain's face was proof enough.

"You alive, Iggy?"

"Barely."

Noctis was more gentle with getting off the bed, making sure not to jostle Ignis too badly, lest their perfectly clean sheets be ruined.

"Shut that hammerin' up."

"I'm trying, Gladdy. Gimme a sec." Noctis didn't bother to put on pants—his boxers covered enough and there were only a few select people who could have possibly been banging on his door and Astrals knew how early in the morning.

Noctis dragged his feet through the apartment and toward the front door, avoiding a few shoes and scattered pieces of clothing. He could only remember bits and pieces of the night before, mostly of Nyx and Libertus dragging their asses back to his apartment after the fiasco that has been dinner. They had been unceremoniously tossed through the front door and then left to find their way to bed.

Oh. Dinner. Shit. Noctis had hoped that a good night sleep would help block the nightmare that was the night before, but it hadn't worked.

Yeah, no wonder he had such a terrible damn headache. He was lucky he still had his _head_. The guys were lucky they still had theirs, too. After what an absolutely clusterfuck the night had been, a simple headache that would cure up in no time (as long as he managed to stumble his ass into the kitchen long enough to find some of the potions he stashed under some celery.)

But the banging on the door was growing louder and Noctis knew better than to leave whoever was on the other side for too long.

"Coming, coming," Noctis yelled, his voice scratching against his throat. "Shuddup, I'm coming!"

Not bothering to turn on the light, Noctis threw the door open to see Nyx's face smirking back at him.

"Please don't come, your Highness. I don't want to clean that out of my gear."

Noctis glared balefully at the man. "Oh, go screw yourself."

"Happily." The cheeky grin only widened across his face. "You look like shit."

"I feel like shit," Noctis murmured and turned his back to the Glaive, making a vague motion into the apartment. He trusted that the man knew his way around the apartment without the help of the lights. From the click of the door, Noctis knew that he had been followed in. He scratched at his ass before flopping uselessly onto the couch.

"You need something?"

"Potion. Under the green shit."

"You're gunna need to be more specific than that."

Noctis only grumbled for a minute, but thankfully Nyx was quite fluent in Prince-speak, and within a moment Noct could hear the cracking of a can and something cold being pushed under his nose.

"Drink up, buttercup."

Noctis took the can and downed half of it without so much as a flinch, smacking the can onto the table.

"How much did you make?"

Nyx didn't even have the decency to look shocked. "About two hundred thousand? Maybe a little more."

Noctis picked up the can and downed the rest before throwing it at Nyx's head. He missed. "Next time, warn me that my old man is going to play some shit like that."

"It was funny though. The look on your face—"

"I will fire your ass if you finish that sentence."

Nyx rolled his eyes and picked up the can. "You can't fire me, I'm part of your dad's Glaive. Not yours."

"I'll tell him when I was seventeen you let me and Prompto go to that gay club in Block D—"

"I thought we said that never happened?" Nyx sounded offended.

"And I thought you had my back, but then you went and sold me out."

Nyx scoffed. "Well, if you're so damn offended I'm taking _this_ with me when I go."

Noctis looked to the man's arm, where there was something in a plastic bag jingling off his wrist. It seemed vaguely square-shaped with a striped red and white bow popping from the slit at the top. "Is that what I think it is?"

"It might be, if you stop threatening to get my ass fired." Nyx put the can on the table and then held out his other arm for Noctis to take the bag. "Taelpar Harvest Galette. Your favorite, right?"

Noctis could feel the drool already. "Maybe you can leave it."

"And you can stop trying to get me fired?"

"For now."

Nyx rolled his eyes. "Fine, your Highness. There should be enough in there for all of you. Just don't eat it all by yourself. Six knows what Scientia would do to me if you got a cavity."

"Yeah, yeah." But Noctis was already salivating at the thought of the delicious oranges and slightly crunchy shell. "Did you get the—"

"Can of whipped cream is at the bottom."

Noct stood and reached out for the box, taking it right from Nyx's arm. "Well, uh. I guess... thanks."

"And thank you for the extra cash. I'm thinking about going on a vacation."

Noct snorted. "Where're you thinking of going?"

"Anywhere far, far, _far_ away from you."

"I won't take it as an insult."

Nyx stood up and stretched. "You probably should," he admitted as Noct turned away from the man.

"You better go before Iggy sees that you didn't take off your shoes. And also... you have some Lasagna still in your hair."

"Oh, fuck you."

"I'd rather not if it's all the same to you."

It didn't take long for the Glaive to leave after that. Noctis didn't even blame him; Ignis on even his worst of days was a sight to see when he was angry. And certainly having a dirty, uncouth Kingsglaive who had bet money on who was fucking whom would certainly have sent him into a frenzy.

But thankfully for Nyx, Ignis was too busy groaning in his bed to come out and scold the man, though if Noct knew Iggy then it would certainly figure out an apt punishment in due course.

Instead, Noctis went and got a few of the other potions from the kitchen fridge, grabbing a knife and some forks from the cutlery drawer. Breakfast in bed should have been done on plates, but for Noctis the thought of having to wash the dishes after made him more than a little uncomfortable.

When he returned to the bedroom he didn't turn on the lights, but instead allowed himself to slowly sink back into the warm sheets. He put the plastic bag to the side and sifted through it, cracking open one of the potions. He raised it to Ignis's lips, who greedily took a sip, grimacing at the taste.

"Yeah, yeah. It's no Ebony. But it'll help."

"I'm well aware," Ignis intoned and toon another small sip. Noctis was careful in running his hands across Ignis's brow, happy to see some of his more normal color peeking through. It took a little while for Ignis to finish most of the can, enough for him to lean up in bed and take it for himself. "You don't need to take care of me, Noctis. I am more than capable of doing it on my own."

"But I _wanted_ to, Specs."

Ignis smiled. "Then... thank you."

"Ugh, tell me you got me one too?"

"Course I did, big guy. Here." Noctis cracked another open and reached out to hand it to Gladio, who had his hand raised up in the air as though he were reaching for the stars. "Got one for you too, Prom. Whenever you want it."

"Will it make the memory of your dad's face disappear?"

Noctis clucked his tongue. "Doubtful. If so I would have already drank everything in the kitchen."

After a few minutes of settling the potions into their stomach, Noctis cracked open the plain white bakery box, noting that everyone (including Ignis) turned to look at him with a level of interest that he knew well.

"We didn't really get to eat much last night, and by the time we got home things were already a mess..."

It was the truth. They were lucky to even get Ignis into bed without his shoes and pants on. Food had been a laughable concept.

"I assume this is from whomever was knocking down our front door?"

"Probably Nyx?" Gladio asked.

Noctis hummed. "The one and only. Said he made two hundred thousand gil off us."

Prompto whistled as he leaned forward and grabbed a fork. When he tried to slip it into the crumbling galette, Noctis slapped his hand with his own fork.

"Ow, shit, Noct. No fair. And that's a lotta dough. He could have definitely bought us more than just a galette... y'know, for our pain and suffering."

Noctis leaned forward and grabbed Prompto's smarting hand, lifting it to his lips for a kiss. "He said there's whipped cream in the bottom."

"Well... I guess that makes it a little better."

Gladio snorted again. "Yeah, if you don't count that we won't have heads to eat it with come nightfall."

Ignis was the one who spoke then. "It seems... rather unlikely that any of us will be without heads, especially after his Majesty seemed to give us his blessings last night."

Blessings... oh, man. Noctis wished he could roll over and just let himself fall into a hole. The entire night had been such a fucking mess that he wished that he could just forget it. Just for a little while. But yeah, it was good that none of them would suddenly be headless...

Gladio reached into the bag and pulled out the whipped cream can, holding it out. "No plates?"

"Cretins, the lot of you. I swear."

Gladio popped the cap off the can and held it out in front of himself like a weapon, aimed squarely at Ignis. "Might I remind you who was drinking from the bottle last night?"

Ignis winced.

"Yeah. Thought so. Calling _us_ cretins."

Noctis resisted the urge to snort, instead flopping onto his stomach and picking at the top of the galette. "We should eat it before it goes cold."

It was probably the most delicious thing that Noctis had ever eaten, if he were honest with himself. While Lady Quina's food was marvelous, the galette had something a little extra to it, a little umph that Noctis was pretty sure came more from the three men snuggled up next to him.

It was a delicious dessert, but what we even more delicious was the hand that Noctis felt pressed up between his ass. He couldn't tell whose hand it was with one hundred percent confidence, though from the hair across the knuckles he was able to easily assume that it was Gladio.

"Well... you just going to keep that hand there, or are you going to be a little more creative?" Noct murmured as he dropped his fork into the near-empty pastry box.

"Thinking about it."

"Which one is better to eat, huh? Me or dessert?"

Noctis felt another hand from his other side reach over to grab at his other cheek. "That's rather an unfair question, wouldn't you say?"

Noctis swallowed. "Nah, Iggy. I think it's an honest question to ask." He closed his eyes and fell into the feeling of their hands on his backside, slowly slipping down to the band keeping his boxers in place. their warm touch as they slid further down made Noctis gasp and bury his nose into the blankets. All he could smell was a mix of aftershave and the expensive fabric softener Ignis bought because it was the only thing that didn't break Prompto out in hives.

Speaking of Prompto—

Noctis felt something wet and slick hit his back, the squelching of air leaving a can and then a tongue running across his skin. It felt like fire. He couldn't contain the low moan that Prompto's tongue against the small of his back pulled from his mouth.

Prompto's laugh was deliciously sweet. It took everything Noct had not to pull away from Ignis and Gladio's hands on him and grab Prompto down for a kiss.

Well... he was the prince. And after last night, he had certainly earned it.

Noct turned on his back and pulled Prompto down on top of him, letting his hands lock around the blond's neck. Prompto spluttered something and passed off the whipped cream to Gladio who took it with a chuckle.

"Sorry for the dirty sheets, Specs," Noct said between kisses.

"You apologize but I never quite believe you."

Noctis allowed himself to fall further into their hands as Prompto pinned his arms above his body, allowing their tongues to clash in heat and sugar. He tasted as good as he felt.

Noctis heard Ignis get up off the bed, though he didn't quite see where he went. Prompto's mouth was making its way lower and lower down Noctis's throat and then his chest, and Gladio—

"Open your mouth, Princess."

Noctis looked up at Gladio, running his fingers through Prompto's hair. He could only see the man through half-lidded eyes, but he opened his mouth anyway. He knew Gladio would never do anything he didn't like... and Gladio's cock? Well... who would ever say no to that?

What he got wasn't what he expected. Gladio pressed the tip of the nozzle into his mouth and sprayed a dollop of cool cream onto his tongue, making Noctis open his mouth wider to take more in.

"Look at that, we actually _can_ shut him up."

Noctis closed his mouth and slowly swallowed the whipped cream, enjoying the feeling of it going down his throat. It wasn't what he originally wanted but it was good enough. For now. However, Noctis thought as Prompto wrapped his tongue around one of his nipples, tweaking the other with his deft fingers, this was only the beginning of the morning and there would be plenty of time for them to enjoy themselves before needing to be out of bed. And, well, Noctis had absolutely no plans on doing anything for the day that wasn't resting...

Or at least having him on his back.

Noctis allowed the two men to lavish his body with kisses and bites, Gladio guiding the nozzle against his skin to leave trails of whipped cream for Prompto to lick and suck off.

It was only a few minutes later when Ignis returned, his hair and body damp. When he got back on the bed, fully unclothed, he leaned forward for a kiss. He tasted like mint, a perfect juxtaposition to what Noctis could only assume his own breath smelled like.

But Ignis didn't complain.

"I believe you are wearing more clothing than need be. Prompto, wouldn't you agree?"

Prompto, who was still safely tucked between Noct's thighs, slipped his hands to the waistband and allowed Noctis's cock to come free. "I'll fix that right now."

Noctis closed his eyes and hummed, enjoying the feeling of three sets of hands working across his body, three bodies moving around him and licking, kissing, touching. "You guys... better get on with it. Wouldn't want dessert to go bad."

"Dessert can't possibly go bad, Princess."

By the time Noctis was prepared he felt sticky and desperate, digging his hands into the bedsheets and bucking up into the air. Prompto's fingers had stretched him wide and open as Ignis and Gladio kissed and suckled, leaving wet tracks across his thighs and chest, up to his clavicle and to his throat.

"How you wanna do this, Noct?"

Noctis scrunched his eyes closed. "Dunno. Don't care. Surprise me."

"Pillow Princess just wants to be taken care of."

"Don't you know it." Noctis let one eye flick open, lazily tracking Gladio.

"Well, I say we try to do the other night again—"

Noctis shook his head. "Hold it, big guy—you nearly fucking _broke_ me. I'm lucky I could _walk_ —"

"You were the one who suggested it, remember?"

"Just because I suggest it doesn't mean it's a _good_ idea."

Ignis made a noise, but Noctis only responded by sending a nasty look in his general direction.

"Well, how about just me and Iggy?"

Noctis looked up to Gladio, who was still busying himself with making little stars of whipped cream on Noctis's nipples. "What'd you think?"

Gladio shrugged before leaning down, taking Noctis's nipple between his teeth. Noctis couldn't bite back a loud, needy moan as his toes curled.

It was good enough of an answer for Prompto, who happily clapped his hands together. "Yes! Score. All aboard the 'We're not dead' train!"

"Can you like _not_ refer to my ass as a train?"

Prompto lifted up his leg in response. "No way, man. We're all alive, so we're going to celebrate... before the King decides he doesn't like us anymore and that we really don't need our heads. We're fucking for our _future_ , Noct; don't you get that?"

"Fine, fine."

And celebrating they certainly did. It didn't take long for Prompto to pull Noctis to his knees and allow Ignis to get behind him. Noctis's back pressed flush against Ignis's chest and Prompto, ever the creative one, managed with a little maneuvering to get both Ignis and his own cocks pressed just right inside of position was slightly awkward until Prompto got on his back, letting Noctis and Ignis topple on top of him with a little help from Gladio.

"Okay, so no trains... how about a nice Noct sandwich." Gladio let his hand rest against Noct's head, running his thick fingers between Noct's sweat-slick mop. He could barely think, only allowing his mouth to fall open when Gladio pressed the can against his lips again. The sweet whipped cream bubbled in his mouth, though the unfortunate sound of the gas running out made Noctis pout around the tip.

Ignis laid a kiss against his back in response. "I'm sure Gladio can come up with—" he ground his hips forward, bucking into Noctis hard enough for him to all but see stars, "—an alternative to sate that terrible mouth of yours."

Noctis wondered if Ignis was thinking back on last night, but he quickly pushed the thoughts away as he felt Gladio pull the tip of the can out and replace it with something much, much thicker.

Gladio was blessed with girth as well as length, but today Noctis wanted to be as lazy as possible while Ignis, Prompto, and Gladio took care of him. Even if he wouldn't vocally agree with Prompto, it was true that this entire situation was more of a survival party fuck than anything else... Because of that, Noctis only took in the tip to his mouth, making sure that if Gladio wanted anything more he would have to help make Noctis pliable enough to get his throat to open up.

He did, as well. Soft fingers pressed equally soft circles into his throat, allowing the muscles to slowly relax and take more and more in. It wasn't as much as they usually went, especially if Gladio managed to get Noctis so relaxed he became all but jelly (and Noctis, while he did not eating anything mushy, didn't mind to feel like that.) Yet it was more than enough for Gladio to slowly press himself down Noctis's throat.

Usually the taste was a bit annoying, but Noctis was happy that the cream still stuck to his taste buds, making the rough and heady taste of precome and sweat. Combined with the feeling of Prompto and Ignis inside of him, slowly moving opposite of one another—in and out and in again—Noctis could barely remember to breathe. Gladio's pets to his neck and throat, the whispers and hums of pleasure surrounding him the only thing keeping Noctis from losing himself in the feeling.

Perhaps it was the fervor and fear from the night before, but no one lasted for too long. Noctis couldn't have been sure who came first inside him, but he could feel the heat as Gladio spilled himself down Noctis's throat and the way Ignis bit gently into his shoulder. Prompto's fingers had managed to find their way down his back, leaving Noctis moaning into the clambering fingers. He could feel the scratch marks down his shoulder blades.

Yet he was still rock hard, his cock feeling like metal between his body and Prompto' were slow in their movements of pulling out, leaving Noctis feeling like his father's favorite dessert as they laid him across the bed.

Gladio took to his used and blissfully aching ass, allowing his tongue and beard to whisper against his sensitive and shaking flesh. Prompto had taken his mouth while Ignis, ever the diligent one, began his exploration of his cock. It didn't take long for him to come under their ministrations and absolute worship of his body, and Noctis could only ride the wave of pleasure by kissing Prompto deeper, letting his fingers scramble against Ignis's and Gladio's hair.

After milking him for everything he had, Ignis pulled away with a slight pop, his fingers gently resting Noctis's spent, pink-flushed cock against his black curls. Gladio pulled away next, allowing his beard to rub against Noctis's thigh as he swept a few kisses against the skin.

Prompto though... Prompto didn't seem likely to give up his kissing any time soon.

"Oh, come now. Prompto, let him breathe," Ignis joked, but Noctis only tightened his hand in his Chamberlain's hair a bit. Ignis's laugh as he disentangled Noct's grip from his hair, accompanied by the soft kiss against his knuckles, only made it better.

"We spoil him too much, Iggy," Gladio muttered as Noctis let go of his head, instead only petting his fingers through the long, black hair.

But it was okay, because after the fiasco of the night before... Noctis deserved the dessert he had been robbed of.

Prompto pulled back after a few more soft kisses, resting their foreheads together. "Not too bad, eh?"

"Well... not too bad for a peasant."

Prompto squawked as he reached back to the pillows, grabbing one to smack Noctis in the head with. "Oi! You said I'm supposed to be a commoner!"

"If I remember correctly, his Majesty also called you a peasant," Gladio interrupted.

"And he also said he was screwing your dad—"

"You little shit!"

"Oh, the two of you—"

"You don't get to talk, Iggy. We're going to have to clear out the liquor cabinet tonight, because clearly you have some _problems—"_

"That is absolutely absurd! I do not have a drinking problem—"

"Specs, you were so wasted last night! You drank half the castle wine!"

"Well, at least _I_ am not a peasant!"

"Not fair! Commoner!"

"Peasant! And you—I cannot believe you broke _how_ many glasses?"

"Well, nothing I broke compares to Noctis over here. The Star Rouge's 3rd Century table?"

"Oh, heavens. That thing was national treasure! And Prompto, really—Did you try to use a teaspoon to..."

And Noctis laughed, because for everything that had happened the night before, some things would never change.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.**

 **Please review!**


End file.
